


I Never

by Emerald Embers (emeraldembers)



Category: Final Fantasy VII, Legacy of Kain
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-09
Updated: 2010-04-09
Packaged: 2017-10-08 20:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldembers/pseuds/Emerald%20Embers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Final Fantasy VII/Legacy of Kain crossover. What do you do when the first challenge you've had in your life comes from a black and blue monster?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Never

Having been sent to clear up the mess around mako reactors more times than he had bones in his body, Sephiroth was as used to the unusual as a man could be. Even so, having a raging man-sized demon blink into existence in empty air that he'd just been scanning for helicopters rated high enough in what Zack would have called the weirdness factor to startle him. Were it not for his training since birth taking over he might have ended up impaled on its pike pretty damn quickly, but shortly before it had the chance to retaliate it stopped, moving into defensive stance and babbling... _something_. Not Wutaian or anything else Sephiroth could place, though the harsh syllables felt somehow familiar and the patterns suggested grammatical structure, genuine intelligence.

Realising swiftly that shouting at each other wasn't likely to get them anywhere fast and the creature seemed more puzzled than angry, Sephiroth took the Masamune and traced a quick X in the ground, waited for the creature to follow his lead.

Crouching so that its impractically white robes trailed in the dust, it took a knife from its belt and traced images in the dust - cloaked stick figures on both sides, but one set wearing what looked like some sort of crest. The faces didn't carry much detail, but they looked unhappy with one another. Explained the weaponry. More peculiar was the moon in the background, too huge for Midgar, Wutai, even Gongaga. Hojo might make a better guess than Sephiroth was capable of making, but given the situation it looked like this creature had just been transported involuntarily by _something_ from the opposite end of the planet - if, indeed, it was from this planet at all.

Not a born diplomat, Sephiroth could think of little more to do than tap his chest, say "Sephiroth", and wait for the creature to respond.

"Janos."

Sephiroth nodded, took out his PHS, and called for Zack.

.

Sephiroth had expected some sort of incident through miscommunication to take place when the truck arrived, but having Janos take flight with what he'd very wrongly thought to be an eccentric cloak and land on the truck, tearing open the canvas roof with its pike still caught him by surprise. Thankfully before the creature could do any real damage or any frightened rookies blasted it, Zack was leaning out of the window with a fired tranquilliser pistol, a sleep materia equipped with it for added efficiency. Zack's occasional issues with orders had left several asking why Sephiroth backed the decision to have him promoted to first class, but the answer was simple - Zack had a knack for resourcefulness. Sephiroth still smirked from time to time thinking about the mission where Zack had slipped some local Gongagan herbs into the enemy's food store, ensuring that half the camp was effectively intoxicated on the morning of the attack.

Janos blinked sleepily, dropping the pike and then glaring at its hand as if that was responsible for the muscle relaxation before collapsing through what remained of the truck's roof. Zack grinned once, containing himself quickly as he hooked his arms under the creature's, eyes widening slightly as he dragged it out of the truck to check for injuries. "Seriously light. Think its bones are hollow, Sir?"

"We'll find out when we get back. Any cuts, broken bones from the fall?"

"Nothing I can see, but it kinda crunched when it fell." Zack shrugged, flipping the creature onto its front so the wings wouldn't be crushed beneath its weight - however little of that there was - and wincing a little.

"What?"

"The wing's gone funny." Zack looked back up into the truck. "Jay, have we got a chocobo splint kit?" The familiar cheap yellow box came flying out, nearly doing Zack an injury as he caught it and snapped open the plastic case, pulling out the rods and ties. "We'll need an x-ray at base to do it properly but I'll stick with a best guess for now."

Sephiroth nodded before looking up at the men in the truck, clearing his throat quietly.

"Huh? Oh. Sorry, Sir."

"Are they talkers?" Sephiroth asked under his breath, looking for any signs of jitters in those present.

"Not as far as I know. Random guess, but is this about a certain scientist, Sir?"

Sephiroth frowned slightly before walking over to the truck, leaving Zack room to finish up the splint and pull the creature inside, arranging it awkwardly around one of the seats. "I'd prefer no one talk about this discovery until we know exactly what we're dealing with. Understood?"

Nods and "Yes Sir"s all around, so Sephiroth found himself a seat in the truck and gestured for the driver to take off.

.

Zack's theory about the hollow bones had proven half correct, given it was only certain areas of the creature's body that had the curious development. The teeth seemed normal enough, slightly extended canines but otherwise typical of humans, and really, colouring aside, the only real differences between it and a normal human were in the way the creature was designed for flight. Clawed hands and feet were ideal for perching, and the musculature of its shoulders and back were perfect for supporting the wings.

Impressively enough, Zack had done an effective enough job of splinting that the vet decided it should be left as was, give or take one or two pins. Sephiroth opted against telling him when he sent the Soldier off to collect pen and paper for Janos, figuring that if it could draw then perhaps it could write, give a sample they could begin to translate from.

Quite understandably the creature's initial reaction on waking was panic, blatant anger and finally a sort of cautious rage. Knowing the claws could do some serious damage if it attacked, Sephiroth opted to wait outside the sterile room, watching it draw on the paper, occasionally pausing to watch him back. Strange how those gold eyes stared - strange seeing eyes as alien as his own. He couldn't help but wonder how a fight between them would have gone had it not stopped after the initial, clearly instinctive attack. Its strength was obvious, the colouring unique - such an odd monster, he wouldn't be able to tell if he beat it black and blue. Zack could put up a decent fight but not a challenge; a decent sparring partner but no use for training.

The drawings continued to show an unfamiliar environment but writing on and around the images seemed complex enough to suggest translation could eventually prove possible if the creature learnt their own alphabet well enough to give comparison points. Given it seemed content to carry on drawing as long as the images were returned to it after analysis there seemed no reason to call in higher authorities; Hojo was more widely acknowledged for the species he'd helped destroy than for his conservation techniques.

Zack opted against calling Sephiroth crazy for bringing the creature to the indoor sparring centre, but it was written in his eyes. Sephiroth didn't care, excusing himself to anyone who did openly question him by saying it was a more effective way of discovering Janos' abilities than lab tests would ever be.

.

Ten minutes later, bruised for the first time since he was young, Sephiroth grinned through the blood running down from his forehead and pushed the creature up against the beam at the room's centre, handcuffing its arms under the wings behind its back. He'd nearly lost, and that was exhilarating. He wondered how he would fare against it once the broken wing was fully healed.

Three weeks later and the drawings came further and further apart, once or twice showing only images of the new environment, including a particularly unflattering rendering of Zack that Sephiroth made sure to pass on. Truth be told, Sephiroth had lost interest in the images seconds into his first sparring match with Janos; no guns necessary, nothing that didn't require physical contact and skill. All Janos seemed to want was the chance to carve more writing into the wooden beams around the room after each fight, and Sephiroth was content to allow the 'vandalism'. He was learning for the first time in years and the creature - Janos - was beautiful in motion, seeming to flow and snap between positions with inhuman speed and grace.

It took Janos' pike pointed at his neck on defeating him - making him finally _lose_ \- for Sephiroth to realise his appreciation of Janos' aesthetics wasn't only intellectual, and he finally acknowledged the physical reaction to watching Janos' blissful expression when grooming his wings in captivity.

.

Janos set his pike down after his fourth victory in as many days, getting out a short dagger and starting to carve into the central pillar before seeming to think better of it and turning back, taking Sephiroth's hands and adjusting his grip on the Masamune. The change in position hurt at first but Sephiroth grasped its advantages swiftly - with his strength it _was_ manageable, and it gave him far greater control of thrusts with the sword, made them practical.

He'd barely consciously acknowledged the warm breath at the back of his neck before he turned awkwardly to meet Janos' lips with his own, uncertain who had started the kiss and almost alarmed at the hardness pressed into his thigh.

He'd never dropped the Masamune before, too respectful of the sword that had kept him alive so many times, but he could excuse himself when thighs geared for helping a grown man take flight nudged his own open, letting Janos grind against him while clawed hands worked their way past coat and belt and trousers, shredding underwear with disdain to claim their prize. No one had dared be so bold in years, even if Sephiroth invited them to - scared off by protocol or rumour. Perhaps the loss of communication was a good thing in this.

Sephiroth had never shivered, never moaned, never writhed on account of someone else before. Orgasm was an alien experience and when snapped-out wings hit him hard enough to bruise as Janos came against his back Sephiroth was glad for the pain, the reminder of what Janos had given him over the past few weeks.

.

Strangely, he wasn't surprised or that disappointed when Janos finished the last carving and blinked out of existence as swiftly as he'd arrived. The lack of a smile or final babble was strangely pleasing too, the lack of something to cling to like a desperate man.

Zack had been only too happy to help Sephiroth scratch out the carvings beyond recognition, having found the whole escapade 'just too weird' for his liking, an opinion only strengthened by the wood around the carvings being warm to the touch.

Sephiroth wouldn't help noticing a touch of jealousy too a week later on hearing the answer to where Sephiroth had learnt his new battle stance. It wouldn't have mattered whether Zack was trustworthy or not with that sort of information.

"I had sex with an alien"? The newspapers would have eaten that up.

.

The End


End file.
